Out of the Cold and Silent North
by Epimetheus759
Summary: Ruby Rose and Jaune Arc are two legendary commanders on opposite sides of the generations-long war between the kingdoms of Vale and Martel. Amidst the violence and intrigue that abound on the Maccabean Front, a new threat has arrived... the three exiled sons of the King of Nordahl have arrived in Vytal with ambitions that will shatter the world… rated T for violence and language.
1. Prologue: The Gathering Storm

The King of Nordahl was dead.

A pillar of black smoke curled into the heavens from the funeral pyre on the gravelly beach. The funeral revelry had begun when the balefire was lit four hours earlier, and it showed no signs of slowing down. All of the members of the King's host had made their peace with his passing long before: his wound had meant that death was only a matter of time, and not very much of that. Thus, all that was left was the celebration of the life of a man who had united the land of Nordahl for the first time in five generations.

Three men were not joining in the great feast and all of the entertainments to be found there. In a small map-covered room attached to the side of one of the longhouses, the sons of the King of Nordahl sat around a table. The mood around the table was, to put it lightly, grim.

"The Jarl of Hvergelmir, too, has turned against us," the largest and oldest of the trio said. As one, every pair of eyes turned to the lake in the center of the northernmost continent of the map. "We can expect the rest to follow suit shortly enough. Once the formal mourning period is over, they'll attack. We all know that we can't hope to prevail against the forces of every Jarl on this continent."

"The land of Nordahl, then, has become quite inhospitable to anyone who once followed the King," said the youngest of the three. The middle son snorted with amusement.

"Why Pyri, I do believe that you have just made the most understated comment in your roughly nineteen years of existence." Colorless, calculating grey eyes danced with mirth as he leaned forward and studied the map. "With Hvergelmir having joined the alliance against us -and that didn't take him long at all, did it?- the sons and host of Varan need to find a new place to stay. If nothing else, we need to get out of Nordahl long enough for this pack of opportunistic raiders and cutthroats to forget about the former King." Aurelius Varan smiled with a sudden thought and tapped the continent just south of Nordahl.

"I take it that you both remember our little sojourns to the Suderlands back in our wayward youth?" The oldest smiled with fond memories.

"With great nostalgia, for the most part. You propose taking the host down there? We will be hard-pressed to find unclaimed land large enough to settle all of the families, and I doubt that any of the kingdoms down there would take kindly to an army led by the sons of Varan landing on their shores." The youngest son winced at the prospect of trying to fight off any of the united kingdoms of the Suderlanders. "Yes, Pyri was there when we tried raiding Thrasymachus. Nasty business, that, and it was only an independent city we tried to sack, not a kingdom. And another thing, how are we supposed to work out who is to lead the entire host?" The eldest laced his fingers, waiting to hear what course of action Aurelius would suggest. The middle son was known for cautious deliberation, preferring to know all of the relevant facts about a matter before making any decisions.

"I am quite aware of the difficulties posed by attempting to keep the entire host intact, Eli, which is why I propose that we split the host into three parts," Aurelius said as he raised a hand to forestall any arguments. "Listen to my words before you reach any conclusions. As things currently stand, we need to leave Nordahl for a very long time: quite possibly the rest of our lives. That means carving out a living in the Suderlands. The problem is that all three of us have very different ideas of what we should do. Thus, I believe that it is in our best interest to divide everything our father had between the three of us and let each make his own way. A year hence, we shall meet up in one of the more neutral cities and discuss our progress. What are your thoughts?"

Pyriphlegethon, the youngest, was the first to speak. "I am in favor of this course of action, so long as I can take those warriors with families. I want to make a kingdom for myself in the Suderlands, and the westernmost lands of Vytal are quite fractured. It should prove easy enough to conquer a small kingdom. What about you, Eli?" Elivagar Varan tapped a small island to the north of the middle and easternmost continents on the map.

"I will happily take the warriors without families and those who are only betrothed. I plan on setting up a fortress on Kraken Island." Kraken Island was so named because, on a map, it resembled some sort of massive sea creature. The island was surrounded by treacherous conditions in the ocean around it, and storms frequently lashed the waters. It required skilled navigators, resilient ships, and extremely precise charts to safely land: this was probably why no one had yet made any serious attempt at colonization. "Obviously, I will need most of the dragonships. If I leave each of you a dozen, as well as most of the transports, will that suffice?" Aurelius and Pyriphlegethon both nodded. "Excellent. From there, I think that I will try raiding the Sunrise Lands. I've always been interested in those stories of a wealthy people with brightly-colored eyes. What do you want, Auri?" Aurelius smiled lopsidedly.

"Hel's Angels, the larger share of Father's wealth, and a few of the more sturdy ships." Pyri barked a short laugh and nodded at Eli, who reluctantly tossed a small pouch filled with gold across the table. Aurelius looked at Elivagar with bemusement written clear across his face.

"You bet that I would not take Hel's Angels?" Eli shrugged.

"We all knew you were going to suggest splitting the host when we walked in. One of the benefits of having lived with you for twenty-one tortuous years," said Elivagar with a small grin that took the sting out of the words. "I made a bet that you would ask for something besides Hel's Angels, at least at first, just to make a hash of our expectations." Aurelius shrugged.

"I'll admit, that option was a close second," Auri chuckled. "At any rate, I'm reasonably sure that we all knew what each of us wanted going in. With that in mind, I say that we give the host a few days for their celebration. The next couple of months are going to be hard enough, so let's allow them to have some fun before we get down to business. On the one-year anniversary of Father's death, we'll meet up in this city, here." Auri laid a finger on city on the coast of the Emerald Sea, so named because of the greenish hue of the waters that lay between the continents of Vytal and Gehenna. Aurelius got up from the table and walked to a nearby cabinet, pulling out drinking horns and a bottle of wine. "This is a bottle of that vintage from Fleur. I've been saving it for an occasion like this for years," he said as walked over and passed out the filled horns. "To King Varan, greatest scion of that great line." All three raised their horns in a toast and drew long draughts. As Auri began to refill each of their horns, Eli looked at him quizzically.

"One last thing, brother. You haven't told us what you are planning to do in the year you have to yourself.

Aurelius smiled knowingly and leaned back in his chair. "I hear that there has been a war going on in Vytal for almost forty years now. A hundred and twenty, if one counts the Vallian conquest of Fleur. I plan on taking my family and Hel's Angels down to those kingdoms and, well... deciding what to do from there." Aurelius chuckled with a dark sense of humor that was fully shared by his brothers.

"All I'm going to say is that, if it turns out the City of Vale has been burned down by the time you arrive there for our reunion, you should not be in any way surprised. And we can always hold our reunion amidst the ashes, should worst come to worst." His two brothers laughed knowingly.


	2. 1: Vale's Finest

General Jaune Arc leaned over the table in his command tent and studied the map. Duchess Schnee's forces had moved more rapidly than he had thought possible and the Nirus Valley was now completely blocked off to him: the combination of spring floods and hostile forces would combine to turn the marshy ground of the valley into an absolutely hellish deathtrap for any army attempting to force the pass. That, combined with the Faunus bandits that kept raiding his supply lines (yet they curiously seemed to ignore Schnee's logistics) and the clergyman that the King of Vale was sending his way were giving him the beginnings of a truly horrid migraine.

"Trying to find a way though?" a feminine voice asked from behind him. Jaune started and turned around: he had been so deep in thought he had not heard anyone enter. The woman behind him had waist-length red hair gathered back in a pony tail and wore a cuirass, vambraces, and a strange sort of skirt-and-cape. Her weapon, currently in a sword configuration, rested on her hip. As near as Jaune could tell, the skirt/cape was some sort of sign of nobility. Considering that the mercenary had enough gilding on her armor, jewelry, and weapons to pay for a battalion's upkeep for a month, her being nobility seemed likely.

"General Nikos," he said, "it's always good to see you. Has Huntsman Lie reported back?" General Pyrrha Nikos shook her (in Jaune's mind, quite attractive) head and walked into the tent.

"Not yet. Actually, according to his last message, he'll be delayed coming back for a few days. I can already tell you, though, that unless the Duchess is uncommonly careless, there is no way around without going at least fifty leagues out of our way. And I feel advised to warn you that the terrain is wholly unsuitable for the Custodes Sophia to fight in."

Jaune grunted in response as he returned to staring at the map. "Someday, you will have to tell me how your army of exiles came to bear that name."

"Perhaps some other time," Pyrrha said as she leaned in close over the table Her head was barely inches from his own. "I understand that the King is sending us a high-ranking member of the court?"

"He arrived a few minutes ago. I expect that he will head straight here." Jaune glanced over his shoulder nervously, making sure that no one was eavesdropping. His voice dropped to a low mutter. "Pyrrha, you should know that he's a member of the clergy. And an inquisitor." Nikos exhaled sharply and fire flashed in her emerald eyes: when she and her mercenaries had arrived in Vale several years before, the Inquisition had spoken out strongly against hiring the exiles. In fact, they had advocated driving out the survivors of the now-lost land of Elysia. "Perhaps the Church fears that the insidious influence of the Grimm is creeping through our ranks. Maybe they just want to make sure that no one harbors thoughts of sympathy for the heretics. At any rate, the Custodes Sophia are not only our best soldiers, they're not even part of the Church. So you and your men should be fine, as long as they don't call any attention to themselves." Pyrrha narrowed her eyes: apparently, that had not exactly been reassuring. "Besides, if they've sent who I think they sent-" Jaune was interrupted by a clatter of metal.

One of the sentries outside ran in, touched his hand to the brim of his sallet helm in salute, and said, "You asked to be informed when our visitor arrived. He's outside right now." Jaune nodded jerkily and, moments later, a massive man clad in flowing red robes walked in and stretched out a ring-covered hand. Jaune respectfully knelt and kissed the proffered ring while Pyrrha stood uneasily in the corner. The experienced soldier noted that this new arrival kept his dark brown hair cut short, in military fashion, and wore a large, flanged mace at his side. From his bearing, he was both able and eager to use it.

"It is, of course, always an honor for the Church to send a Cardin," Jaune said as the man tucked his hands in the flowing sleeves of his robe. "May I ask why you have journeyed all this way, your Eminence?"

Cardin Winchester walked over to the map and studied it. "The King wishes to know why you have made so little progress thus far in your invasion of Martel. There are some back at court who mutter that this invasion could only have stalled through treachery. Still others think something far more... malicious... is to blame." The Cardin attempted to make a friendly smile: it ended up simply looking sickly. "Then there are others, such as I, who think that the causes are quite mundane indeed. I am here to determine the truth of the matter."

"As I am sure the Cardin knows, the valley passes at this time of year are often entirely impossible to get through. The Maccabeans are fully capable of defending those few that are -and I use the word very, very loosely- passable."

"Oh I know, Jauney-boy, I know." Winchester had adopted a tone that, he no doubt thought, was the very essence of bonhomie. Pyrrha had the sudden mental image of the Cardin reading about a concept called 'camaraderie' and determinedly practicing this heretofore unknown technique, failing miserably, and still trying to affect it in ordinary conversation. The results were every bit as ghastly as one could imagine. "I've tried to tell the King that this invasion was not very well timed, but he refuses to listen." Jaune quite wisely refrained from pointing out that this was probably the entirely foreseeable result of a barely nineteen-year-old Cardin trying to advise a King several decades his elder on the fine points of military strategy. "So I'll be hanging around the army for the anticipatable future, doing my best to see if there are any sinister forces at work. But I'm sure that I won't find anything in this well-oiled army you run, eh, Jauney-boy?" With those words, the Cardin politely inclined his head at General Arc and left. As he walked out of the tent, Jaune let out a breath that he didn't know he had been holding.

"I do not like him," were Pyrrha's first words as soon as they were sure that he had truly left. "His manner is entirely too forced; he strikes me as a bully at heart. And did you hear the way he talked to you? As though you were some old drinking-buddy. Perhaps we could arrange... a small accident? Perhaps if he were to be attached to one of our patrols when they ran into the Faunus raiders?"

"He's the second son of the Earl of Winchester," Jaune said bluntly. Pyrrha's mouth formed a small 'O'. "His father bought him a position in the Church early on, so lo and behold, he's now a Cardin. The Church, you know, is always quite grateful to those who patronize it prominently."

"You realize that a revelation of nepotism only makes me like him less?"

"I'll grant you, he's not a very nice person. In fact, he's kind of a bully. Probably pulled wings off of houseflies as a kid and everything. Thing is, though, that at the siege of Ile-de-Fleur four years ago, he was one of the ones who pushed for unification. Which means that, as slimy as it makes me feel, I probably owe him my life. Besides, a young person in a position of authority isn't exactly unusual in this day and age, what with the War of the Falcons having wiped out most of a generation." Jaune pointed outside the tent. "I don't know if you've noticed, but most of the people in that army out there, and the Maccabean's army, and, for that matter, the Custodes Sophia, aren't a day over twenty-two."

"I see your point," Pyrrha replied reluctantly, "but that doesn't mean I have to like him. Or cooperate."

"Pyrrha, do you ever want to see Sanctum again?" Jaune felt very guilty about playing this card. A few months earlier, he and some of his friends had been drinking, and Pyrrha had let slip most of her whole sordid history. Among other things, she had related -in excruciating detail- the fall of her homeland, the city of Xanthippe. She had been nearly unable to go on as she began retelling the sight of the Sanctum Academy library aflame, debris collapsing into the waters below the cliffs the academy was built on, as the invaders amused themselves by committing unspeakable atrocities on the students and teachers who had not been fortunate enough to escape. Eventually, Pyrrha and her Custodes Sophia had wound up in the service of the King of Vale, one more in a long line of masters. Admittedly, Nikos would occasionally admit that the King was far better than her usual run of employers.

"More than anything," Pyrrha choked. It was a well-known ambition of the Custodes Sophia to reclaim Xanthippe, Phaedo, Charmides, and the other fallen cities of Pyrrha's homeland. It was Nikos' hope that the King of Vale would provide enough support for a successful war of reconquest. In particular, it was a lifelong dream to see the academy of Sanctum restored to its former glory: the academy had held a special place in the mercenary's heart.

"The Earl of Winchester is one of the most influential nobles at court, and the good Cardin is... not stupid. He is lazy, something of a sadist at heart, obviously the beneficiary of nepotism, but he is not stupid. Right now, he and his father are the best chance you have of persuading the King to lend his aid once this war with the Maccabeans is over with. So, as a friend, please take my advice when I tell you to be nice to him."

"I can do that," Pyrrha said. "In the meantime-" she was interrupted by a girl with bright red hair sticking her head inside the tent.

"Is Ren back yet?" she chirped. Jaune mentally braced himself for that which was about to ensue. He could feel the oncoming migraine like the leading front of a hurricane about to hit.

"As it happens, Nora... no." Nora's face changed from happy to comically dejected so fast Jaune almost laughed aloud -almost. He might very well have, in fact, were it not for the knowledge that the Nordahl girl's methods of dealing with rude people started with beatings severe enough to inflict bruises and worked up from there. It was rather incongruous for someone normally so bubbly and vibrant to have such a penchant for violence, but Nora seemed completely oblivious to the apparent clash between wearing brightly-colored, pink-hued clothes and a sleek, metallically gleaming warhammer at the same time.

"Aaaaaw," she pouted, "why not?"

Nora Valkyrie and Lie Ren were... interesting, even among an army with almost two-thirds of its manpower coming from foreign mercenaries. To hear Nora tell it -or more accurately, to hear Ren correcting Nora's frequent errors as she regaled rapt audiences over whatever alcoholic beverage happened to be in front of her at the time- Lie Ren's family had fled the depredations of a would-be emperor of Guang when he was still a baby. Along with a few other families, they had taken refuge as warriors in the service of one of the Jarls of Nordahl, where Nora and Ren became friends at an early age. When that Jarl was slain in the course of yet another of the interminable wars that frequently racked that continent, Nora and Lie had run, barely ahead of the pursuing victors, to Lie Ren's homeland, which had by then been united by the emperor Ren's family had fled earlier.

Ren had started training as a Huntsman, one of a select few specifically trained to hunt down and kill the shape-changing Grimm. Shortly after he graduated from the academy at Atlas, changing political conditions had precipitated yet another move, this time to the land of Vytal. They had taken up service in the army of the King, and had wound up in the same force that had been given to Jaune. According to some of the rumors at court, the invasion had been launched to keep some of the more politically destabilizing elements -which, essentially, meant the semi-mythical General Arc- away from the capital.

Lie Ren had been put to use as one of Jaune's best scouts and assassins: he was extremely stealthy and absolutely deadly with the twin kamas he used. Nora, by way of contrast, was about as stealthy as the average wolverine with a toothache. On the other hand, she fought like one too, so Jaune usually had her by his side in battle to make sure that he could focus on the course of the fighting.

Jaune was just considering how best to formulate his response when he was saved by Pyrrha interjecting.

"His route back was hit by a mudslide. His last message said that he would try to find a way back that wasn't either sheer cliff or crawling with Faunus."

Nora chewed over this information for a moment, then brightened up noticeably. "Okay! Make sure to tell me the instant he gets back!" And with those words, she was off. Jaune stared at the tent flap, baffled, for a few seconds before turning to Pyrrha.

"So... have you managed to figure out what their exact relationship is, anyway?" Nikos, for her part, looked equally baffled.

"I haven't the faintest idea of where to start."

* * *

_Well, there you have it: my first actual attempt at writing anything of this sort. If you liked it, be sure to leave a review. If you didn't like it, a review would also be appreciated._

_Next chapter I plan on taking a look at what team RWBY is up to._


	3. 2: Pure as the Driven Snow

"Wake up! It's morning!" The voice was high-pitched, girly, and at that moment more painful than a stiletto thrusting through her ear.

Weiss, the Duchess Schnee, pried open an eyelid a crack. Sitting at the foot of her bed was a girl a couple of years younger than herself with dark red shoulder-length hair. She was wearing a black corset and skirt, black leggings, black boots, a silver rose sigil on her belt, and a flowing red hooded cape. It also happened that she was also the last person Weiss wanted to see right then.

"Ruby," she snarled, "if you do not get off of my bed, _right now_, I am going to use your blood as sweetener for my morning tea." The young girl followed her wishes _post haste_. "Now, can you tell me what it is that has you so excited, or is it completely unreasonable to expect coherence and something approaching civilized behavior from you?" Ruby Rose appeared to be bouncing excitedly at the same time she was attempting to suppress her obvious eagerness.

"It's the morning Yang is supposed to be coming back!" she said. "I thought that it would be a good surprise if we met her, and you know how punctual she is. So I kinda figured that since it's nine in the morning, you had slept in enough and maybe you should get dressed?" Weiss groaned and firmly shut her eye.

""Ruby, because of our friendship, I am going to ask nicely. Once. Please get out of my room." For a refreshing change of pace, Ruby actually did what she had been asked to do. Weiss tossed over and tried to fall back asleep to no avail. Which meant that her own ingrained habits were urging her to get out of bed and get to work. Which meant that her morning had been ruined (again) by the youngest tactical prodigy on the continent.

The Duchess considered herself lucky to have picked up Ruby and Yang before anyone else had. When she had first approached Yang Xiao Long for a contract, the blonde-haired girl had already been well on her way to becoming one of the most notorious bounty hunters in Vytal. After a few years of working with her, Weiss was paying her a small fortune in order to retain her mostly-exclusive services, and the Duchess considered it money very well spent. As a favor to the bounty hunter, Weiss had agreed -reluctantly- to take Yang's younger sister under her wing. Much to her surprise, the impetuous young Ruby had proven to possess an absolute genius for military tactics, not to mention a tremendous amount of skill with a scythe, of all the eccentric weapons imaginable. Keeping her as a personal retainer, tactician, and bodyguard almost compensated for the daily headaches trying to deal with Ruby produced (almost). Much to the bafflement of Weiss, over the years, they had formed a surprisingly good team. Weiss handled strategy, coordination, and funding, Ruby dealt with any tactical matters that arose, while Yang dealt with individual threats and coordinated with...

Weiss groaned as she swung her feet onto the floor and levered herself off of the bed. She had almost managed to get a whole five minutes into the day before remembering the fourth and final member of their little team. The member who as a matter of daily routine gave her more problems than Ruby and Yang combined. The member who had, less then a decade before, been in a state of open warfare against the Schnee household. The member whose head Weiss had really wanted to see, in no metaphorical sense, on a silver platter. In fact, the Duchess fondly reminisced, she had commissioned just such a platter to be specially made from a local silversmith. It had even been in the shape of her family crest. And then Yang and this never-to-be-sufficiently-damned war with Vale had interrupted.

Blake Belladonna had been born to one of the many rebel groups that had been fighting a multi-decade insurrection against her family's authority. One of Weiss' earliest memories was of her father raging about some recent raid the rebels had carried out. Family members had frequently ended up assassinated or kidnapped and tortured to death. Much of the reason for the young Weiss Schnee's military training had been the family's desire to stamp out the rebels once and for all.

Blake had been a part of the White Fang, an all-Faunus rebel group and the most vicious of her family's many foes. In fact, it would not be unfair to say that they had formed the backbone of the coalition against the Duke. They were prevented from being truly effective, however, by the rabid hatred that they shared of all non-Faunus. Their more level-headed leaders could, occasionally, force the rank-and-file to work with ordinary humans, but in time their vicious nature would re-assert itself and the White Fang would strike out on its own once again. Belladonna was one of the few moderating influences within the White Fang, for all the good it did; she had also been one of its most trusted lieutenants.

The start of Weiss and Blake's relationship had come at the time of Vale's first invasion of Martel, about four years prior. With the need to secure her own lands before departing to the Maccabean Front, Weiss had finally relented and payed Yang an exorbitant amount to bring in the leaders of the rebels. The bounty hunter had succeeded in all but one contract. Much to Weiss' shock, Yang had come back with an offer from Blake to defect to the Duchess' service, along with a sizable portion of the White Fang; it had turned out that there was quite a bit of discontent in the ranks. With some trepidation, Schnee had accepted, and in the campaigns since, Belladonna's Faunus had proven their worth as irregulars innumerable times. It hadn't been until much later that she had learned that Yang and Blake were practically childhood friends, and it had taken no end of persuasion from Yang to convince Blake to defect. And now, four years later, here they were, and here Weiss was. In a commandeered farmhouse in the middle of her army's encampment, waiting on the third member of her team to arrive.

Weiss stopped just before opening the door, mentally taking stock of everything she had on. White combat skirt, bolero jacket with her family sigil, cavalry boots, rapier... everything was in order. She walked across the threshold and twitched a smile as the two guards on either side of the door straightened to attention. Unlike some of the mercenary armies fighting in the Maccabean War, she applied iron discipline to her soldiers. It was one always reassuring to know that her soldiers were willing to go toe-to-toe with the Custodes Sophia, even if the end result would be a one-sided massacre nine times out of ten (they were _willing_: that did not necessarily imply _able_).

After a few minutes of walking, Weiss spotted Ruby standing just outside the palisade surrounding the encampment. She strode over and stood next to the smiling young girl.

"Looks like you finally got out of-"

"Shut up." The pair waited in silence until they spotted a roan horse coming around one of the hills. The distinctive blonde hair and revealing leather armor left no doubt as to the rider's identity, even from a distance. Weiss waited until Yang halted a few feet away and dismounted, opened her mouth for a cutting remark on timeliness, and was abruptly interrupted by a delighted Ruby throwing herself forward, squealing, to be met with a bear hug from Yang.

"Sis! It's so good to see you again!" The two sisters certainly seemed ecstatic at their reunion. One would think that they had been apart for decades, rather than the roughly six months it had actually been. Weiss let them catch up for a few moments, then cleared her throat. The girls separated, Ruby in an attentive position, Yang in a far more relaxed pose that called to mind a coiled serpent.

"Truly, it is so good to see that you could finally join us on the Maccabean Front," Weiss said caustically. Yang's posture shifted to a noticeably more hostile stance. "Did you discover the issue at the mines?" Her personal bounty hunter nodded sharply.

"There was a Grimm disguised among the work crews. It caused most of the collapses, then preyed on the trapped miners in the darkness. It was a Taijitu." The Duchess raised a quizzical eyebrow at that. Yang sighed and revised her answer to the word used in Vytal. "A Ladon." Weiss nodded in recognition of the name. The serpentine Grimm were known for being able to change their human form at will and the ability to adopt the guise of either sex. To hunt, they transformed into a giant snake with a fanged head at either end. They were extremely deadly in their _modus operandi_, the ambush. A Taijitu was stealthy, cunning, and very dangerous. The only good aspect to them was that they tended to prey on other Grimm just as often as humans. If there had been a Taijitu at the mines, it was highly unlikely that any other Grimm were anywhere in the area.

"Did it give you any trouble?" Weiss asked. Yang shook her head.

"Eh, it was always a long shot that that snake would be able to chow on me," Yang grinned broadly and waited for an appropriate acknowledgement of her brilliant pun. It was not forthcoming. "So what did I miss?" Weiss waved a hand to the northwest.

"We have General Arc's army stalemated on the other side of the Nirus Valley. Your miscreant friend's Faunus bandits," there was no mistaking the arch tone to her words, "are doing a passable job of raiding his rear areas. Last I heard, she was hiding in the woods somewhere on the other side of Jaune's army. There's just one slight problem," Weiss gestured for the sisters to follow her and continued expounding as she walked. "The King of Vale recently sent one Cardin Henry Winchester, along with an inquisitorial team, to Jaune. For some reason, Blake declined to capture him en route. So I need you to go to her, personally convey my displeasure, and make an inquiry as to why, exactly, she let this opportunity slip through our fingers. Then, I need you to report back to me for further instructions. We have a sitting war going on with the Vallians right now, so we might as well make the most of spring conditions while they last. Any questions?"

"Um, yeah," Yang said in a bemused voice. "Why is this Cardin guy so important?"

"Because, in addition to being a senior clergyman of the Church, he is also the head of an inquisitorial team and the son of the Earl of Winchester, probably the second-most powerful man in Vale. Which means that his presence is just as much political as it is religious. Remember, Jaune is a Florian, and got his start fighting in the War of the Falcons. And that's not even counting the whole 'visions from God' aspect, not to mention his friendship with a lot of the foreign mercenary commanders." Weiss animatedly continued on, oblivious to the increasingly glassy look in her comrades' eyes. "So of course, as a bone to certain elements in court, the King sent Cardin Winchester to Jaune's army, and no doubt Winchester is going over the army with a fine-toothed comb. So if anything were to happen to the Cardin, or if he found actual evidence of treachery or the Grimm, the reluctant support that a lot of the Vallian nobles are giving the King for this invasion would evaporate, and Jaune's army would start falling apart." Schnee stopped when she saw Yang cautiously raising a hand. "Yes?"

"So why am I going to Blake?"

"I need to find out exactly what the Cardin is doing before I can make any plans. We had a window of opportunity to grab the Cardin as he was on his way and maybe hold him for ransom, but Blake passed that chance up." Weiss' usual severe expression had given way to a frown. "Our armies are going to be deadlocked until summer, so anything we can do to destabilize our enemy right now will help. We're outnumbered four to one up here and I'm just trying to buy time until reinforcements arrive." Weiss thought briefly and shrugged. "It might surprise you to hear this, but Ruby and I haven't actually been doing much of anything except weapons drill and tutoring." The younger girl grumbled under her breath at that reminder. Weiss felt a wicked little smile briefly cross her face. "It's for your own good," she said as she turned to Yang. "So I want you to tell me everything that you found at the mines, and then you and Ruby can have a couple of days to yourselves. After that, I want you to meet Blake."

* * *

_Well, Chapter 2 (3 if you count the prologue) is up.__Obviously. I view this particular work as something of an exercise in examining how characters would have developed if they were raised in different situations than the show. As such, expect the occasional out-of-character moment, although, if I did my job right, the personalities should match up with their counterparts in the show pretty well._

_For the Blake fans who thought I was giving her a bad rap, remember that so far we've only heard Weiss' side of the story. Blake might have a slightly different version of events._

_Next chapter, I am probably going to take a look at what Lie Ren and possibly Blake have been up to._

_Reviews are always well-received, as long as you can refrain from pointless vulgarity and trolling. Guesses about plot threads, twists, suggestions, etc., are all fine. I do so love to play with people's expectations._


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